Latest Entries »

Until some point in the unforseen future, you should all consider this site essentially dead. I’ll be posting my stuff on my deviantart page ( http://nkarpovich.deviantart.com/ )instead, as I feel I can reach a wider range of people there versus here on wordpress. The site wont be taken down in case I ever do decide to actively start posting here again, but dont expect any updates any time soon.

A Star Trek Fanfic, set 2-3 years before the events of Star Trek ’09 in the Prime Universe

The IRW H’veha came out of the warp around Ramiter VII, and her commander, a Romulan named D’taev, leaned back in his chair, gazing in contemplation at the giant orb that lay before him. The site of a small Romulan colony, Ramiter VII was by no means a pristine jewel of the stars. On the contrary, it was a cold, dark, lifeless rock, far too distant from the nurturing warmth of its sun for it have developed life of its own. Distant from any trade routes, the planet’s only strategic significance was the vast amounts of dilithium buried deep below its surface, valuable both for propulsion and weapons. This, combined with the planet’s natural conditions, made it a very appealing place for the Romulan Star Empire to dump the worst of its prisoners from Remus, Romulus’ sister planet with similar conditions. These prisoners needed sustenance in order to mine Ramiter’s precious dilithium hoard, and that is what brought the IRW H’veha and her crew into orbit around its hellish surface.

D’taev sighed, and ordered his helmsman to bring the H’veha into dock at a large space station, used to co-ordinate shipping in and out of the Ramiter system. As the helmsman followed his command, he retreated to his ready room, sat at his desk, and opened up a comm channel to the engineering section of the ship. A romulan woman with neck length hair black as night, and deep green eyes came on screen, and smiled at him. He gave a warm smile back, and said, “Nim. You’re a sight for sore eyes. Everything in order?” Nim gave a nod. “Have we docked yet?” she asked. “We will momentarily.” D’taev replied. “Send a couple crewmen to the cargo bay to help unload. We’ll get the paleys their food so they can get back to work and we can get back home.” Nim nodded again, before saying, “Alright, I’ll get on it. And, I’ll see you tonight.” She added with a smile. “There will be a feast worthy of a king waiting for you.” D’taev chuckled. “Alright, I’ll count the seconds. Love you.” Nim smiled, then blew a kiss, before cutting the comm.

D’taev leaned back in his chair with a smile, contemplating how lucky he was, and how how easy his last mission before promotion was. What he didn’t know, was that it would be anything but.

Another Diary I wrote, this one from the viewpoint of a WWII Mechanic. Enjoy!

November 14th, 1941: I just arrived on Oahu today. I’ve been transferred to Pearl Harbor as a mechanic. The weather is beautiful here, I could really get used to this. I’ve been assigned quarters in Schofield Barracks.

Nov 19th, 1941: All these reports about the Japanese aggression in the far east are making me worried. Between them and Hitler, mark my words, this world will be in flames, and we’ll be lucky if we get out of it with our lives.

Nov 26th, 1941: They transferred me out of the Barracks today, and onboard the USS Enterprise, under the command of Admiral Halsey, i’m excited to be stationed on a carrier, even if everyone says the Battleships are the assignment you want to get.

Nov 28th, 1941: Admiral Halsey is taking the battle group out to sea. We’re to deliver aircraft to Wake Island. Rumors are out that if we come across any Japanese forces, the Admiral will engage them with extreme prejudice, although his official orders from Admiral Kimmel are to use his common sense.

Dec 4th, 1941: We delivered the fighter squadron to Wake, so far no signs of any Japanese. We’re heading back to Pearl, although we’re going to be late because of that storm we encountered on our way here

Dec 7th, 1941: We came into port today, surrounded by death. I can’t even see the sky through all the thick black smoke from burning ships. The Japanese hit Pearl this morning. Pearl of all places! They slaughtered our ships, I can’t see a single one without some kind of damage. Thank God for that storm, or we would have been here with them. We are under orders to sail southward and seek out the enemy fleet and engage, to stab back at the enemy the best we can.

another story set in the elysian universe, this one takes place before “Siege of Fortuna”

Janus Merak hated people. He hated all their little quirks, their little annoyances. He hated trying to talk to them, and would rather be the man running the lights at a concert than the guy on stage. It irked him incredibly when others would disturb him during his work. And he detested public speaking and listening to others with a burning passion. Yet, somehow, Janus Merak had become a politician. And after becoming a politican, he had somehow become the Chancellor of the Circle, the highest ruling body on the planet Inasti, capital of the Langrith Empire. He supposed it was the power, the sense that his choices had weight, that balanced out his hatred of people as he stood on the balcony of the Castaraine Building, overlooking a massive crowd of those irksome cretins and holding a few wisps of paper in his hand, containing a speech. He walked up to a podium, and straightened his papers, then leaned towards the microphone, and began.

Despite his inward feelings, Janus was well liked by the people. This had been proven during the elections, when he won in a landslide victory against his opponent from the Gaean Party, Verona Castille. It had been proven again when the crowd cheered as he had announced his plans to strengthen the military from his podium on the balcony. And it was being proven again now, as nearly the entire city of Joathi, center of the empire’s government on Inasti, attended his state funeral, and the rest of the empire watched, coupled with the newsreels about the man with an Elysian ID and weapon who had gunned him down mid speech.

A short historical piece I wrote, centered around Pearl Harbor. This story is tied in with “Siege of Fortuna”

…As Major Mcdonough’s P-40 Tomahawk hurtled down the runway, its engines roaring like an enraged tiger, he glanced over his shoulder, checking for enemy fighters. Seeing none, he brought his plane up into a climb, pulling it away from the tarmac. The tomahawk then soared up to cruising altitude, and Mcdonough looked to his left spotting two other tomahawks that made it into the air. He gave them a salute, before his eyes drifted towards Pearl Harbor. The billowing plumes of smoke coming from throughout the harbor, as well as the occasional tounge of flame shooting out of the shattered and mangled husk of the USS Arizona, only strengthened his resolve. He banked his plane towards the battle, the other tomahawks following him as he rushed towards the sound of danger, intent on avenging the Americans that lay dead and dying below him.

Mcdonough’s hodge podge squadron flew into the fray, catching a small group of Japanese aircraft from behind. They dove down on the enemy, Mcdonough knocking out a Nakajima B5N “Kate” torpedo bomber before the japanese had time to react. A dogfight ensued, with several Mitsubishi A6M “Zeros” peeling off from the main Japanese formation to intercept Mcdonough’s fighters. Mcdonough’s formation split, and began a deadly dance of death with the enemy fighters, both sides darting around trying to line up a lethal shot on the other side. One of the enemy fighters erupted in a ball of flame after one of Mcdonough’s wingmen lodged a bullet inside its engine. Mcdonough let off a stream of bullets at another nearby fighter, then glanced over his shoulder, cursing as one of his wingmen was hit, his engine sputtering. He watched the plane as it spiraled down to its death, the pilot bailing out. He was shaken back to reality by the sounds of bullets bouncing off his own wings, and glanced behind him, spotting a Japanese pilot. Another round of bullets struck his wing as he dove, and as he glanced over, he could see fuel leaking. He cursed, and turned his plane around, struggling his way back to Hickam Field. He landed his crippled plane amid all the destruction and devastation, then climbed out of the cockpit, before blacking out from blood loss, due to the bullet that had passed through the base of the Tomahawk’s wing and into his leg.

A short story I wrote, based off of a certain historical event, and tied to a short historical fiction piece i wrote!

..As Joseph Pavlik led his squadron of Damocles class missileboats towards the fusionpulse gate, he looked over his shoulder at the hundreds of other Damocles and Excalibur class vessels forming up for their own gatejumps, their sleek, almost shark-like hulls glistening in the light of X26-G13, the nearest star. The emblem of the Langrith empire shone out on some of their delta wings, its crossed swords brandished over a single golden shield. He prepped his missileboat’s pulsedrive, before nodding at his wingman, and entering the gate, heading for the Asopus system, and war.

The planet Fortuna wasn’t a planet persay. It was far too small to be a planet. Nestled in the rings of the gas giant Asopus, Fortuna was a small moon, mostly covered in blue-green seas. Its gravitational forces had made a small clear space in the rings, large enough for a fleet of warships to dock in. This gap had been taken advantage of by the Elysian Republic, who had colonised the little world that hid in the shadow of its leviathan neighbor. The gap had been quickly filled with large dry docks, storage tanks, and stations. Fortuna itself had become somewhat of a vacation world for the Elysian crewman when they were on shore leave. Several small towns had popped up on the planet, mostly along the shoreline. On the first sunday of the last month of the Elysian calendar, the 72nd Battle Fleet, under command of Admiral Patrick Mcdonough, was in port for refit and repair at Fortuna.

Patrick Mcdonough stood on the bridge of his flagship, the ERS Athena. He was a fitting presence there, one with authority. He could trace his lineage all the way back to Old Earth, where his ancestors fought in the United States Army Air Corp. The military was in his blood, and his crew knew it. On this particular day, He stood looking over his combat information display, at the twenty four ships scattered throughout Fortuna’s facilities, all under his command. There were three hundred small blue dots as well, sprinkled throughout the asteroids in small spindly lines. These dots represented Fortuna command’s defense force of Ceres Class fighters, all docked in their high capacity parking limbs. He glanced away from the console as he sat down, and looked out a nearby viewport at the Athena’s seven sister ships, sitting in a set of two straight lines across the gap from the Athena, their splendor and strength clearly evident against the backdrop of Fortuna’s topaz seas. He gazed at the ships for a few more moments before looking away and picking up a stack of E-Pads, and prepared to spend another uneventful sunday reading reports.

The computer in Joseph Pavlik’s Damocles came to life as they neared the Asopus System. He looked at the computer for a moment, before letting out a sigh, and opening up a channel to the rest of the Missleboats and Fighters, ordering them to warm up their weapons and prepare for re-entry into normal space. As he prepared his own weapons, he let out a heavy sigh, the weight of what he and his comrades were about to do, and about to start, finally hitting him. He rubbed his face, then ordered the attack force to cut engines as the the pulsedrive tunnel collapsed.

Asopus’ light blue clouds disguised a large molten iron core. This iron core, five times the size of the planet Earth, projected a massive magnetic field. This magnetic field disguised the pulsedrive tunnel collapsing on the far side of the planet from Fortuna. Asopus also hid the 420 tiny flecks coming out of that pulsedrive tunnel, as they approached the azure jewel nestled inside the ring of icy rocks that orbited the giant ball of gas.

Eveline Hersman guided her mining barge through the rocky maze of Asopus’ rings, navigating towards a particularly ore-rich clump of asteroids. As she neared the cluster, she saw several dozen bright flecks of light approaching her, not showing up on sensors. She shrugged the flecks off, assuming the navy was simply running exercises. As the flecks approached, and became small ships, she quirked an eyebrow. “Those ships don’t look right.” she thought. “Their shapes are all wrong.” As the ships grew close enough for detailed inspection, her eyes locked on the crossed swords and shield painted onto their hulls. “Those are Langrith ships!” Panic flew across her face, and she powered down the barge, save for the comm, which she used to try and contact Fortuna Command with a warning.

As the strike force approached Asopus’ orbit, Pavlik spotted a mining barge drifting in the gas giant’s retinue of asteroids. He let out a sigh, and motioned a couple times to his nearest wingman with his hand. The pilot gave a nod, and veered his craft towards the barge. The small strike craft descended upon the barge like a hawk, weapons hot, but instead destroying the lumbering defenseless giant, simply shot out its comm array. After making its pass, the strikecraft gently turned, and headed back towards the FusionPulse gate, its engines on lowest power levels to avoid detection.

Despite his best efforts, Admiral Mcdonough had dozed off in his command chair. He dreamed of his home on the planet surface, right on the coast of Fortuna’s pristine oceans. He and his small family were on the beach, his young son playing with the sand as he and his wife watched. The hours passed, and day turned to dusk as he and his family watched the massive blue orb of Asopus settle down under the horizon as Fortuna’s night cycle began. Suddenly, his dream world was shattered to bits as a klaxon blared out on the bridge. His eyes flew open and darted around, trying to figure out what was going on. The bridge was in chaos, alarms flashing and wailing, people scurrying about to their battle stations. He jumped up as a small blast shook the ship, and wobbled his way over to the C.I.D. As he leaned against it and studied the display, his eyes widened and he paled. For every blue icon on his screen, he saw at least four or five blood red icons racing around, attacking any and every ship in Fortuna’s Orbit. The Athena’s bridge shok again as another blast, at least twice the size of the first, shook the mighty giant to the core. Mcdonough’s eyes flew to the viewscreen, and his jaw dropped as the massive destruction being delivered upon Fortuna’s infrastructure became obvious. Flashes were going off all around from the sheer amount of laser fire pouring down on the defenders like a torrential downpour of angry red rain. Several smaller ships were listing uncontrollably towards Fortuna’s atmosphere, their lights and power conduits flickering, and most of the larger ships had clearly visible impact burns on their hulls, some of which were bleeding atmosphere. Then another Impact shook the Athena, and the viewscreen went dark.

The engines of Pavlik’s Damocles’ screamed as he dove towards an already battered fighter parking limb. He lined up his crosshairs on the rapidly approaching structure, and pulled the trigger. His missileboat shook a bit as he pulled up, verifying to him that he had hit the parking limb’s fuel storage, and most likely destroyed the structure. He then pulled up, and headed towards the center berth in the harbor, where eight lumbering Zeus Class Battleships lie in dock. He lined up his missileboat for an attack run on one of the battleships, with the name Ares painted onto the hull. He gave his missiles a few seconds to lock, before sucking in a breath, and pulling the trigger.

The Athena’s Viewscreen flicked to life, just long enough to give Admiral Mcdonough a view of the Ares being struck by two missiles. The mighty ship listed for a moment, before igniting into a massive fireball and ripping in half. The massive shockwave hit the Athena, and the ship shook, the screen flickering back out along with the lights, casting Admiral Mcdonough and his crew into darkness.

The news reports the next day were grim. Within two hours, 24,030 men had been killed by the Langrith attack. The most devastating blow was the loss of the Ares, along with 11,170 of her crew. The next morning, The Elysian Republic, under urging of their president, Fairfax Radburn, declared war on the Langrith Empire. Analysts were spouting off about how there hasn’t been a surprise attack against a naval base like this since Old Earth’s second world war, when the Japanese Empire attacked the naval base at Pearl Harbor on December 7th, 1941, with results much like what occurred here at Fortuna.

I still haven’t heard from my friend at all. Mother told me this morning we’re leaving the city. When I asked her why, she said she was afraid the serbs were going to try and take over, and she didn’t want to be there when they did. she said we’re going to go to Gornji Vakuf, up near the Lasva Valley. Its at least a week’s drive to get there. She says it’ll be safer there because the Croats aren’t at war with us like the Serbs are. I don’t want to leave, Sarajevo’s always been my home. I’ve never lived anywhere else. But.. its not like I have much choice in the matter.

April 31st, 1992

Dear Diary,

We’re leaving today for Gornji Vakuf. I talked my mom into taking me over to my friend’s house. He wasn’t there.. but his mother, Freya, was. I asked her where he had gone, and she said he had left a week ago. He had ran off into the hills to join the Serbians that were shelling the city. When she told me that.. I couldn’t speak. I was too shocked. I went outside to our car and asked my mother, then went in and told Freya we were leaving, then asked her if she wanted to come with us. She looked up at the hills where the guns, for a moment, were quiet. Then she looked back at me and nodded, a single tear in her eye. I gave her a brief hug, before telling her we would wait for her to get her things. I can’t believe my friend would do that to her. I can’t believe he would be willing to join the men shelling his own home, and leave his friends and family behind. Does the fact that hes a Serb mean he has to hate us? Are we really that different?

May 6th, 1992

Dear Diary,

We’re only a few hours away from Gornji Vakuf now, I can see it off in the distance. We ran into a few checkpoints on our way here, but thankfully, They were all Bosnian. I can’t Imagine what would have happened to us if one of them had been a Serbian checkpoint. The things they’ve been doing to Sarajevo… lets just say, I’m glad I don’t have to watch. I.. just hope theres a Sarajevo left to come back to when this is all over.

May 12th, 1992

Dear Diary,

We’re all settled in now.. mother’s renting an apartment here. Gornji Vakuf’s a lot smaller than Sarajevo.. but.. at least its quiet. I don’t have to listen to explosions as I try to sleep, wondering if the next one will be in my building. The Croats here are part of the Croatian Defense Force, a paramilitary group. They are a lot more friendly to us Bosniaks than the Croatian Gov’t is. Everyone’s on edge though… they’re all worried about what’s going on with the Serbians out west. The tension in the city is so thick you could cut it with a knife. But… at least there isn’t war here. I never thought i’d say this, but I’m glad we left Sarajevo.

May 29th, 1992

I head on the news today that the Croatian Government met with the Serbian Government. I don’t know for sure what they talked about. Hopefully.. the Croatians are trying to convince the Serbs to stop attacking us. After all… the Croatians are our allies. If the Serbs won’t listen to us, maybe they will listen to the Croatians. I just want this terrible war to be over with and for things to go back to the way they were before. I’d rather be part of Yugoslavia than have this!

June 12th, 1992

Dear Diary,

The Croatians crossed into Bosnian Territory today. I was afraid they would do this. Looks like they weren’t trying to stop the Serbs after all! I thought they were our allies, our friends! But… everyone seems to be turning on their friends and family nowadays. First my friend, and now the Croats.I still wonder about him sometimes. I wonder if he felt he did the right thing after all, or if he regrets it. I hope hes okay… The only thing that could be worse for Freya than what he did would be him getting hurt or dying. II hope he remembers who his family really is, and returns to us someday.

June 23rd, 1992

Dear Diary,

Its started all over again! The Croatians have surrounded the city and are shelling it! We left Sarajevo to escape this hell, not have it come back! I can’t look out of any of the windows in the apartment without seeing a burning building or an explosion going off. People are screaming and running around in a panic. I can’t leave the house for fear of getting shot or having someone try and loot our belongings. Every now and then I see a squad of soldiers run out towards the hills where the guns are. I haven’t seen any come back. I don’t see any way out this time, I may join up and help them. I’ll give it a few days before I do though.. maybe we’ll be lucky and they can break the siege. I just hope my family and I get out of th… (The writing scribbles off incoherently, eventually forming a long line down the page. No other journal entries have been found inside the ruined apartment.)

Heres a little bit i wrote during a couple of brief writing flurrys, from the perspective of a bosnian during the Bosnian Civil War. I’ll publish it in two parts. forgive the roughness of the entries, its more meant to test the whole diary concept than anything else.

March 5th, 1992

Dear Diary,

We declared Independence! four days ago, Parliament polled us all, asking if we wanted to make a new, independent, Bosnian state. I voted yes. One of my friends told me to vote no though. He’s a Serbian. He said that if we stay with Yugoslavia we can forge a grand new state like that. I’d rather we all became our own country though. I voted yes. He got mad. He voted no. I hope it won’t come between us as friends…

April 14th, 1992

Dear Diary,

I heard on the news today that the serbs from prijedor have moved troops around the city. I’m worried, they warned that it would be no good for us all if we declared independence. I.. just didn’t think that they would actually DO anything about it. They already split from us and made their own country… wasn’t that good enough? ..i’m hoping this is all just hype and it will all blow over. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.

April 26th, 1992

Dear Diary,
I woke up to the sounds of artillery shells this morning. The Serbs have begun to shell the city! I don’t want to go outside, i’m afraid i’m going to get hit. When I look out the window at the executive council building.. I can hardly see it because of all the smoke. I tried to call my friend, but he won’t pick up. I hope its just because he’s still mad at me.

Avina stared at the radar console as her men stepped off of the Hermes and onto the shoreline. She glanced out of a nearby window at the island a short distance away, and began to daydream, thinking of a town forming on its beaches, slowly growing into a mighty city, eventually even spreading out onto other islands. She thought of her people growing from a small community of scientists and pioneers to a bustling, thriving, metropolis, an oasis in the middle of the endless sea. A smile played across her face as her imagination ran wild, her nation and people spreading throughout the earth, and bringing a new golden age to mankind. Without warning, her reverie was smashed, as the radar console let out an angry series of beeps. She looked back down at the console, and her eyes widened as four or five large red blips streaked in from the other side of the island, like deadly balls of fire.